Page 31 of Lord of the Dark

"Ahhh… are you crazy, you fucking freak?" she snarled.

"You’re mine now," I growled against her skin. "I warned you, Fiona."

"Didn’t realize I was fucking Dracula—"

"You’re fucking everything that lives in the dark." I freed my cock, already painfully hard with need. A rough gasp tore from her as I tapped the head rhythmically against her perfect ass. Her soft, warm folds glistened before me, so ready. I dragged a finger through, parting her, and she moaned hoarsely, thrusting her hips back impatiently. My tip was slick with my own arousal, and I couldn’t wait a second longer. With one brutal thrust, I buried myself deep in her tight, drenched cunt, making her take every inch.

A sharp cry ripped from her—half pain, half pleasure—as I started fucking her with hard, relentless strokes. Her muscles clenched around my thick cock instantly, as if they’d been waiting to swallow me whole. I felt every millimeter of her, the hot, wet grip of her body dragging me deeper, refusing to let go. No matter what act she put on, no matter how much she pretended to resist—her body was mine.

"Fiona—" I couldn’t form a coherent thought. Ecstasy had long since burned away my sanity. The sight of her ass bound by the belt, the way my cock spread her open with every thrust, her wet heat and desperate whimpers—it sent electric shocks straight to my nerves. God damn it, how could this feel so good?

Her fingers clawed into the carpet, her body arched back, meeting every one of my thrusts with desperate hunger. I could feel her fighting for composure each time I drove deeper.

"Your cock is... so... big...," she moaned, her voice nearly breaking under the intensity.

She was so tight, so perfectly molded to me, that my entire body tensed to keep from losing control. My breath came ragged, my fingers dug into her hips as if clinging to her while I battled theoverwhelming sensation threatening to consume me. But she gave me no quarter. Her soft, fractured whimpers, the trembling of her thighs, every damn sound from her lips, every movement that dragged me deeper—it shredded the last remnants of my restraint. She was my fucking ruin.

I gripped her hips harder, yanking her against each thrust with a sharp jerk until every inch of me was buried inside her. I wanted to fill her, make her feel what it meant to belong to me—to ensure she could never think of anything else again.

One hand clutched the bedpost, the other still fisted in the carpet, as if she needed an anchor, something to hold onto in this storm. But that wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted all of her. I wanted her completely open, holding nothing back—knowing there was no going back.

I leaned forward, dragging her face to mine by her hair. Her lips claimed mine insatiably, her teeth sinking deeper into my flesh as she pressed closer, pulling me in with every movement.

"More... I need more of you...," she demanded, rough and raw. She urged me toward harder, deeper thrusts, as if it would never be enough, as if she could chain me to her this way. Her arousal swelled until my stomach was slick with it. The room filled with the scent of her need—sweet, heavy, stirring the beast inside me. I fucked her with such brutal, deep strokes that the sounds of our passion—the gasps, the slap of skin—merged into a wild symphony.

Her breaths turned frantic, her body tensed as she reached the point of no return. A tremor wracked her, uncontrollable, unstoppable—but right then, I pulled back.

"No... please..." A sharp, panting moan tore from her lips. Her hands clenched, her hips jerked forward, desperately seeking the release I denied her. Her breath came ragged, shredded by emotion—by the tangled mess of fury, hate, and burning desire coiling inside her like barbed wire.

"You come when I allow it," I murmured against her heated skin, letting my fingers trail slowly up her thighs.

Ten

Fiona Robertson

He straightened up while I still lay on the floor, my chest rising and falling heavily from the aftermath of his last touches. Without giving me a second to recover, he grabbed my hips and yanked me up in one sharp motion until I was crouched on my knees. The belt left me almost no room to move—I was the perfect toy for him. With a firm grip on my upper arms, he forced them behind my back as he pulled me deeper onto him. Though only minutes had passed since he’d been inside me, his cock still felt too big, like it would split me open. Feeling him this deep, that sweet stretch—it filled me with an insatiable hunger for him. I never wanted to go without it again.

Now I sat astride him in reverse, feeling the heat of his muscular chest against my back, his thick cock buried deep inside me. He twisted my head to the right with a hand around my throat, forcing my gaze toward the large mirror on the dresser. What I saw there sent a shudder down my spine. My heart threatened to burst from my ribcage, pounding violently. The sight of us was the most arousing thing I’d ever witnessed.

In the mirror, I watched as his sculpted arms locked around me—one wrapped behind my back, binding my upper arms, pinning my hands helplessly, while the other gripped my throat. I saw how utterly at his mercy I was, and the forced helplessness burned even hotter because of it. My body sat trapped on his lap, and I could see the tension in my own muscles as I arched against him, his face hovering just above my shoulder, his lips poised at my neck. His expression was half-shadowed,his eyes nearly unreadable. Moonlight cast a grim cone over us, illuminating only half his face while bathing the rest of our bodies in a silver glow. His chiseled frame looked even more defined in the light, every straining muscle along his torso standing out in stark relief. My hair was wild, strands sticking to my face, disheveled and damp. But it was something else that caught me.

My gaze locked onto my own reflection—onto my eyes. And there it was. A shift, deep inside. As if darkness had taken hold of me, spreading slow and irrevocable. The woman staring back at me wasn’t the same anymore. No resistance. No fight. Just hunger. Need. A deep, dangerous craving I’d never felt before. I sucked in a sharp breath as my fingers unconsciously clawed into his arm.

His grip on my throat tightened, as if he’d noticed it too.

"Do you see it?"

"Yes..." I saw it. I felt it. And goddamn, I needed more.

Russo leaned forward slightly, his chest pressing harder against my back as our reflection unfolded completely before me. Now I could see him in his full, unvarnished wildness. His dark hair—usually perfectly combed back—was disheveled, stray strands sticking out, long surrendered to the chaos of our touch. Nothing remained of his usual immaculate styling.

In the dim light, stripped of his elegant clothes and polished facade, he looked like a predator finally freed from its chains—untamed, raw, even more dangerous, and all the more intoxicating for it.

His gaze burned into mine, and I knew in that moment he saw exactly what I recognized in my own reflection. The change in me. The darkness that had long since seeped into my bones.

A faint smirk played at his lips as he traced a single fingertip down my throat—a touch that sent goosebumps skittering across my skin. "This is where you belong… you, right here, on mycock." His voice was deep and possessive, letting the moment sink in as if he wanted to brand every syllable beneath my flesh. I felt his eyes on me, on every breath I took, every involuntary tremble. Then, with a hint of amusement but also a dark promise that stole my senses, he whispered, "Do you still think you could escape me?"

What I experienced that night felt like crossing a threshold—into a world that had always existed inside me but had never been allowed to awaken. It was exactly what I had longed for, without ever being able to name it. Something that had never existed in my relationship with Carter. I had never felt so alive as I did in that moment. Never so desired.

---